


Property of Stark Industries

by amobisan



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Also in Chaper 3, Angst and Porn, Discussed in Ch 3, Dubious Consent, Fertility Issues, Indentured Servitude/Slavery, M/M, Mpreg, Multi, Omega Verse, Porn, Threesomes Can Make For Some Fascinating Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-04-18 10:08:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4702088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amobisan/pseuds/amobisan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce's tone was worryingly unreadable and Steve felt himself tense, ready to accept the backhand that might be coming next, but Stark spoke then, answering "What? I own SI, SI owns him, transitive property, I own him; he's mine to command. He sold himself fair and square, and it’s not like we treat our indents poorly. Why shouldn't I direct one of my company's assets where it's needed? Yours is my very favorite brain, darling, and the sooner it's marinating in satisfied-heat chemicals rather than fuck-me-now chemicals, the sooner we can go back to perverting the laws of nature in the name of science, Stark, and profit margins."</p>
<p>(Pretty much just A/B/O threesome porn.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This setting is AU, even as ABO goes, as Tony never went to Afghanistan and met Bruce well before he did in canon, so he's closer to the somewhat cavalier self we see at the start of IM1 than a post-ethical-awakening Tony. But he's just as much a hedonist as ever :)
> 
>  
> 
> The "dubious consent" tag is due to a) A/B/O verse (aka someone's in heat, which can influence decisions), b) a slave/indentured servant can't give consent (even if Steve is completely on board), and c) Tony is very persuasive.

Occasionally, Steve found himself looking back over his life choices in bafflement, trying to determine exactly which completely sensible decision got him here. Study hard between batches of sickness, get good grades, mourn his mother, work as much as he was able, miss Bucky every second after he enlisted, go to art school when he had the money… all normal, logical things to do. Probably, most people wouldn't consider volunteering to sell his freedom in exchange for an experimental medical procedure for Bucky to be a particularly sensible decision, but most people didn't find themselves cycling helplessly between pneumonia-induced coughing fits and the asthma attacks that coughing triggered, penniless and with a freshly-discharged wounded best friend to find treatment for. So yes, he made the at-the-time completely rational choice to sell himself to Stark Industries’ laboratories, because a few weeks of slavery and needles while he waited for his lungs to finish failing weren't so bad a price to give Bucky a new arm. He couldn't have known that the stuff they wanted to test on him would actually cure him, rather than just make him sicker, and even the people who designed it and put him into that coffin thing didn't expect him to end up quite like this -- permanently healthy, unnaturally strong, with inhuman stamina, flexibility, senses and tall and broad and finally looking every inch the way an alpha should. They even said it made him smarter, though he didn't feel particularly smart, hearing them buzz around him talking science and acting like he was a rat that might do a particularly impressive trick if they poked him right. When they told him that the terms of his -- his contract, they called it -- meant he had to work for Stark Industries, well, he’d already known that would happen if he didn't die first, and at the start they mostly just wanted him to let them test him, and then they heard about his time at art school and wanted him to work in the marketing department most of the time. He got a nice enough place to live, even if it was inside Stark Industries' too-slick corporate Tower, and they fed and clothed him and let him see Bucky sometimes during weekend hours. The work was good, and they gave him whatever materials he needed, and if he had to wear a collar with a little embossed Stark Industries tag, at least his free co-workers never said anything about it. 

And sure, the first time he had an... off-hours assignment, he didn't like it. Probably wouldn't have liked it even if the omega hadn't looked at him like meat and refused to call him anything but "slave," even when he was ordering Steve to knot up in him. After a while, though, he got used to them, got used to the big new body and all the things people wanted him to do with it, and the assignments weren't so bad, really. Any damage healed by the next morning, and he got good at interpreting their moods, figuring out which ones to be coy with, which ones wanted a struggle, which were after a perfectly eager lover. And the enhancements, the "serum," made it so that, ah, performing for them was never an issue. It wasn't all that often, and really, given that he should have died four years ago, his life was a good one. Most of the time, he was content. 

At the moment, though, he was mostly confused. He'd been told he had an assignment tonight and actually given specific instructions about it, which was rare. Rarer still was being directed not to the corporate-floors "guest center" where his... clients... usually interacted with him, but rather to the Tower's penthouse. Once there, he entered the bedroom quietly and began stripping as he'd been told to, kneeling silently a few feet in front of the end of the somewhat ridiculous oversized bed when he'd finished. He waited calmly, idly wondering who could afford to rent out Mr. Stark's bedroom for a night, when he realized he heard the man himself approaching, voice recognizable from dozens of interviews and paparazzi footage reels. Steve was still boggling a little at the thought of the Tony Stark being tonight's client when there he was, wandering casually into the bedroom as if he owned the place, which, Steve supposed, he did. Owned the room and everything in it, Steve included. Steve listened closely as the man kept talking, but was sure to keep his eyes down, head bowed, hands loose on his thighs. The kind of guy who arranged to have a naked, hard, kneeling slave waiting in his bedroom pretty universally got off on submissive displays like that, and it wasn't like performing well and keeping his clients (or in this case his owner, his owner who could whip him to the bone or worse, maybe even reclaim Bucky's arm if he wanted) happy really cost Steve all that much. Ma always did tell him that if he was going to do a thing, he should do it right. 

Steve watched through his peripheral vision as Stark (based on the Prada shoes and Armani slacks) and another man (only moderately nice loafers, mass-market khakis ... not someone on Stark's level, then. Maybe another plaything?) passed through the bedroom's double doors. Stark was saying "and I'm just saying, there's no reason for you to treat every heat like a chore. I've been giving generous, paid heat leave to all SI employees since before I could legally drink, so even if you didn't have a gorgeous billionaire omega all lined up to make you his kept man, it's not like you'd have to worry about your job. Given said billionaire is also extremely interested in seeing you through it in bliss, you should relax, relax and come see the present I got you." 

The other man's voice was low, maybe a little rough, and sounded fondly exasperated when he said "Oh dear Lord, Tony, not another one of your presents. Please tell me this one doesn't explo-- why is there a naked man kneeling by our bed?"

"He's your present, Bruciebear! Aren't you excited?" Stark enthused, and the other man sighed in an annoyed-yet-resigned fashion. Huh. Steve analyzed the situation further, took a slow, deep breath, and braced himself to be witness to his owner and said owner's ... partner's? ... rapidly-approaching domestic. He had the feeling it might be a doozy, and he took obscure comfort in the knowledge that if it was, the bruises when they took it out on him would be gone by morning. The partner made a vaguely interrogative sound and Stark took it as permission to ramble, continuing "He's to help you through your heat. I couldn't believe it when you said you'd never had an alpha during a heat, it's fantastic, so much better than the toys. And he's got all kinds of enhancements, stamina and strength and refractory period and such, and plenty of experience."

Steve saw the plain loafers approach, the khaki-clad legs stop a few inches in front of him, and startled slightly when there was an abrupt tug on his collar. The partner -- Bruce? -- rubbed the dangling tag with his thumb and said "You... ordered an alpha your company owns to come up here, to serve me through my heat?" 

Bruce's tone was worryingly unreadable and Steve felt himself tense, ready to accept the backhand that might be coming next, but Stark spoke then, answering "What? I own SI, SI owns him, transitive property, I own him; he's mine to command. He sold himself fair and square, and it’s not like we treat our indents poorly. Why shouldn't I direct one of my company's assets where it's needed? Yours is my very favorite brain, darling, and the sooner it's marinating in satisfied-heat chemicals rather than fuck-me-now chemicals, the sooner we can go back to perverting the laws of nature in the name of science, Stark, and profit margins. And I guess the alpha gets to knot, inside a very beautiful omega I must point out, so, probably a nice night for him too, or whatever. Everyone wins."

With the increased proximity, Steve started to smell it, then. Omega in heat. It itched at some small, primal part of his brain, and certainly made staying aroused as ordered easier. He caught himself wondering what the omega would taste like, and all but shook himself visibly in trying to push away the urges the scent inspired, focusing on the omegas' interactions again. Stark was still talking, cajoling now, "Come on, sweetheart, I know you like alphas too. Why not indulge a little? You know how much I like giving you nice things," a pause filled by a soft, wet sound, "and how much I like watching you enjoy them." Steve dared a glance up through his lashes, suspecting the pair would be distracted, and found Stark standing behind another dark-haired omega, this one less polished-looking but still handsome enough, his arms wrapped around the shorter man as he pressed kisses to Bruce's neck. Steve had never really been one to fetishize omega-omega relationships the way some alphas did, but these two men were so clearly connected, in tune with each other and perfectly matched, that he forgot to lower his eyes, to not just kneel there and eagerly watch them interact. "He's watching us," Stark murmured into Bruce's ear, and fuck, Steve'd been caught. He wondered if Stark would punish him now, tried to brace for it, but Stark only started to pull Bruce's average button-down shirt out of his pants, fingers teasing at the waistband, and continued to say in that intimate tone "I think he likes it. Likes the look of you. Probably wants to mount you, now, wants to show you a real nice time. He's lovely, isn't he?" He broke off to suck a hickey into the other omega's neck. "Go on, touch him a little. It'll be nice, you'll like it." Steve briefly felt fingers in his hair, then, burying in deep, and that did feel pretty good, and that scent... 

He blinked until his thoughts cleared, in time to catch "--fortable with this. Needing a knot to get me through my heat so I can be 'rational' again? Sounds an awful lot like throwback alpharchy, which I really didn't expect from you, Tony. You remember just as well as I do how things were for omegas when we were kids..." The smaller man turned in Stark's arms, facing his lover and clearly ignoring Steve though they were still standing only inches away from the still-kneeling alpha. He was distantly glad his knees couldn't get tired anymore, and far less distantly aware that the omega's heat scent was only getting stronger as Steve forced himself to stay relaxed and motionless in the face of it.

Stark laughed, kissing his lover gently on the mouth, and said "I'm hardly suggesting you present to him and start cooking his dinner in nothing but a collar, Bruce. He's an indent, not a threat, and you deserve some fun. Don't be so second-wave. Besides," and his tone turned sly, "we can both smell how much you like the idea. Don't you want a nice," another kiss, "thick," Stark guided his lover to turn around again and look at Steve, "satisfying knot? He's already nice and hard, isn't his cock lovely? I bet it'll feel even better than it looks, and his knot better still..." The heated-up bitc-- no, no, the omega, God, his owner's omega, was starting to flush, panting a little as Stark's hands wandered lower, opening the button on his pants. 

The zipper began to slowly, slowly part, directly in front of Steve's face and if he leaned forward an inch or two he'd be able to get his mouth on the omega's cock, lick at Stark's hand where it wrapped around him, moving beneath the fabric of Bruce's pants, almost close enough to brush Steve's nose with every pass. Maybe he'd get to suck the omega awhile and make him get even wetter with the excitement of it, and -- no, he wasn't allowed, hadn't been told to blow him yet. He wavered back from the sight before him, shifting back into the proper kneeling position he'd unconsciously started tilting forward from and focused again on their conversation, anything but the pretty picture in front of him. "-y rich kid of you, I mean, you've bowled through alpharchy with your status and power your whole life. It doesn't matter if he's, ohhhh, fuck, Tony, fuck, if he's pretty, or that he's indentured or even if I might personally, maybe want, to, it's, shit that's good, it's the principle of the thing. The personal is pol-"

Stark, Tony, cut in, biting at Bruce's jawline and saying "If you seriously say 'the personal is political' while my hand is down your pants, you're going to be suddenly experiencing one fewer handjobs than you were a second ago." Bruce shuddered as Tony pulled his hand free demonstratively, though only long enough to pull Bruce's opened shirt all the way off and push his pants and underwear off his hips and oh, if Tony working under Bruce's clothes was distracting, then getting to see every second of Tony's hand, blunt-fingered and dexterous and intriguingly calloused, working up and down Bruce's very pretty cock, was utterly captivating. There was a tiny bead of precome at the slit and Steve could all but taste it, so achingly close but still forbidden. He felt his breathing speed as he stared, licking his lips mostly unconsciously. "Besides, look at those pupils dilate. Bet he wants to taste you." Steve barely noticed himself nodding, knew he shouldn't be so forward with them but they were entrancing, sight and scent and sound, and he wanted nothing more than indulge the rest of his enhanced senses in them, even if it wasn't his place to want such things, much less get to have them. 

Tony's hand sped up slightly, and Bruce bucked forward in pure reflex, cock sliding against Steve's lips just as his tongue darted out to wet them again and oh, he tasted good too, and Bruce let out the prettiest little moan at the accidental contact. "Still sure you want me to send the 'obvious embodiment of the artificial alpharchic ideal' away?" Tony asked quietly, voice tantalizingly intimate. "Because really, I can go play with your present myself. I've got exactly zero hesitation about using some knot for my own pleasure, and it'd be a pity to let all that excitement go to waste... " 

Steve bit his lip, prayed he hadn't read the situation wrong, and then leaned forward that last scant inch, licking at the head of Bruce's cock. Steve looked up for the first time, dared to meet Bruce's eyes for just a moment before asking, voice husky, "Please, sir?" Bruce's eyes slid shut as he moaned and threaded a shaky hand into Steve's hair, tugging him ever so slightly forward, and Steve took the hint eagerly. He licked the head once more, catching another little drop of precome and savoring the bitter salt of it as he traced along the length, lapping a little at Tony's fingers. Always a good idea to pleasure what was clearly the top of a couple, and doubly so when he was also Steve's owner, even if he'd been extremely hands-off until now. 

Bruce moaned again and pushed forward against Tony’s hand, rubbing against Steve’s mouth for just a moment before his lips parted and he welcomed the head into his mouth, sucking hard as he teased with his tongue. Tony was still working Bruce’s cock, maintaining a running commentary of “Fuck, Bruce, isn’t that nice? Look at that, wasn’t his mouth just made for that? Your cock looks so pretty between those plush lips, God, yeah, go on, push into him a little more, he can take it, go on and take the edge off beautiful,” and Bruce only managed a couple of shallow thrusts forward before he was spilling. Steve swallowed dutifully and mmhm, omega come, it’d been a while since an omega client wanted his mouth, that was nice. A little of it smeared across his face when Bruce pulled out unexpectedly, and Tony reached forward, cupping Steve’s cheek and swiping the droplets up with his thumb before pushing the mess into his mouth, and of course Steve sucked it off and licked at the digit in his mouth, because that was hardly the first time someone’d done that one. At least Tony’s reaction was gratifyingly enthusiastic, especially when Tony pulled his thumb out with a little pop that was clearly audible in the quiet of the bedroom. Bruce just slumped back against Tony’s chest, evidently boneless and fond after his orgasm, given the way he was nuzzling at Tony’s neck.

Steve could still smell him, though, smell his need, and he knew that the omega wouldn’t be satisfied by just a blowjob, not with his heat in full bloom like that. Tony started to pull a very limp Bruce towards the bed, straining a bit at the other omega’s solid build, and Steve took the opportunity to dare a little more, rising swiftly and scooping the omega up easily to carry him to the bed. He figured he might as well use all that enhanced strength for something other than hauling reams of paper, and the omega was certainly very lovely in his arms, would look so good unde-- no, no, stop that, damned instincts. He was Steve’s owner too, or close enough given how he and Tony had been interacting, all married-couple banter. Once he was settled across the bed, Steve dropped back to his knees, eyes lowered again, waiting to see what his owner would do, if he’d be punished or possibly rewarded, or just directed to his next task. Tony petted his hair idly and that was nice, maybe intended as a reward and maybe not, but pleasurable either way. Steve let himself lean into the contact a little, closing his eyes and savoring it. 

When he opened them, the omega was standing just as close as Bruce had been, though they were up against the bed this time. “Undress me,” he ordered calmly, and Steve felt vague gratitude for being given clear direction. He was usually pretty good at reading what clients wanted, but it was always so much easier when they’d just give him commands and let him do his job. He curled down to open Tony’s shoes, first. He’d done this enough to have the rhythm down just right, and Stark seemed content enough to let him follow his pattern without commentary. Shoes first, especially for the dominant ones, gave them a nice visual and prevented the awkwardness of pants getting caught later. Then socks, because there was something inherently ridiculous about being naked except for socks and that’d break the mood, and anyway he was already down there. The really eager ones usually opened their flies and shoved into his mouth at this point, but Stark was clearly more than patient enough to see this through, content to enjoy Steve’s less carnal service while his lover recovered. 

Rise for the shirt next, and oh, that was really Steve’s first proper look at him. No suit jacket or tie, but the vest clearly matched his trousers and was just as clearly perfectly tailored and wow, he wore them well. Steve wet his lips unthinkingly, starting at the vest’s top button, and Tony chuckled at him when he did. Once the vest was off and neatly set aside (because they were taking things slow, and because Steve didn’t want to wrinkle something so nice, leaving it on the floor), he started on the shirt. Cuffs first, always, nothing like accidentally getting a client tangled up in their own shirtsleeves ‘cause he forgot about cufflinks. These were nice, a light grey metal that didn’t have the right shade or sheen to be silver, and far lighter than they should be. He took a moment to run his hands up and over Tony’s wrists under the opened shirt cuffs, they always liked that little tease, before setting the links down beside the vest and starting on the buttons. Topmost button first, just a hint of caress against the neck, and Steve was starting to smell omega arousal that was free of the tinge of heat, which was a nice compliment, he supposed. Work down slowly, a little like a striptease, little touches as more and more skin appears. The omega hadn’t bothered with an undershirt and so more of his very bare, very well-sculpted chest was being exposed with every button. Hairless, as most omegas were, but shaped more by labor than a personal trainer, which was very unusual in a billionaire. It made Steve curious about what Stark did when he wasn’t partying and having press conferences, but that was hardly the sort of thing Tony would tell him, would explain to some indent whore he’d ordered up for the night. Steve let his hands wander just a tiny bit more than they normally would during this sort of thing, and Tony seemed to realize that Steve was maybe enjoying himself a little more than usual, getting to graze his fingers over the omega’s pretty pecs and abs as he finished the unbuttoning and pushed the fine broadcloth off the other man’s compact, powerful shoulders. 

Just before Steve would have knelt again to work on his trousers, Tony's hand slid into his hair, guiding Steve's head down for a casually dominant kiss and oh, wow. Steve was technically speaking a professional but he'd never had a kiss like that, no wonder Bruce was making those noises earlier. After a moment Tony pulled away, apparently satisfied, and pushed lightly down on Steve's shoulder. He dropped immediately, feeling himself blushing fiercely. Damnit, this was hardly his first time around. The serum had given him bodily perfection, but apparently that didn't extend to keeping him from blushing like a schoolboy at a single kiss. Tony caressed the side of his face while Steve worked his fly open, and while most men would be imagining how their cocks were about to look rounding out Steve's cheek, something about the way Tony touched him seemed kinder, somehow, maybe a little fond. Steve suppressed the eager little shiver that inspired and eased Tony's pants down, laying them aside and trying to conceal precisely how excited he was by the sight of Tony's cock stretching out his silky boxers, barely a breath away. Tony's fingers wandered up, back into Steve's hair, and tugged back in gentle denial. "Just take them off. Bruce will be wanting you soon, and once I'm in your mouth I don't particularly want to be interrupted," he said. His voice had gone rough and thick in a very complementary fashion and somehow sounded even hotter than before. Steve felt a tiny flash of the impulse to take, to push the omega onto the bed or, fuck, even the floor, to hold him down and just claim the taste he wanted, pin him and suck him and moun-- damnit, down, eugh, fucking heat-scent filling the room, prodding at Steve's instincts. He ignored the part of him whispering that he was bigger than they were, stronger, that he could conquer both of them and have the start of a beautiful den right there. Instead, he dutifully pulled Tony's boxers down, keeping his eyes carefully lowered once he finished so he couldn't be tempted. The hand still in his hair gave him a passing scritch in reward, even as Tony turned fully toward the bed and said "Darling? Back with us? Ready to play with your present?"

Tony ran a gentle hand over Bruce's hip while he waited for the other man to respond. There was a long and somewhat awkward pause, and then Bruce said "... yeah. Yeah, okay. Fuck it. You only live once. I guess I'll still be an asset for visibility of omegas in STEM regardless of if I've ever taken a knot, and damn but he really is unreasonably good-looking."

Tony crawled onto the bed, molding himself along Bruce's right side, and kissed him deep and thorough, saying "Knew I could make a hedonist of you yet, darling," in a voice that was entirely too fond for the cheeky sentiment. "Up on the bed, alpha," he added between kisses and Steve obeyed quickly. As he did, he let himself watch them kissing though he knew he shouldn't, should focus on just doing his duty and making them happy. God, they were beautiful together. He looked them over, noting details in a way that made him itch for his pastels. Both were dark-haired and lovely, of similar ages and compact builds, but that only made their contrasts more interesting. Bruce was softer, somehow, up against Tony's angles and planes. He had body hair, so uncommon in omegas, a hint of five o'clock shadow and untamed curls. He was slimmer through the shoulders, had none of the showy muscle of the other man though he was clearly fit. It all served to give the impression of a man in his natural state, utterly unlike Tony's perfectly manicured goatee and two-hundred-dollar haircut, but the differences only served to set both off to their best advantage, refined against raw and equally beautiful in their own way. 

Tony seemed to notice the intensity of Steve's regard and sounded amused when he said "Yes, yes, we're both very pretty, I know. Eyes on your work." Steve jerked, humiliated at having to be corrected like that, at having permitted himself be so unprofessional with them, and lowered his eyes as he started kissing Bruce's ankle, working his way up. "Do you want to be on your back or all fours, darling?" Tony said, evidently focused on Bruce again. "All fours feels better, back is less tiring once he's knotted."

"Back," Bruce answered without hesitation, voice thick once more with building lust. "I've never had any urge to present to an alpha, and even if it was just for a fuck it would be... ick. No, just like this. I ... I want your arms around me while he, uh. Sees to me." Steve allowed himself a tiny smile, hidden against the curve of Bruce's knee, at how sweet they were together. He could feel the urge to mount building, somewhere low in his spine. He'd been hard for a while now, and the heat scent was thick in the room, only growing stronger as he slowly neared Bruce's entrance with his attentions. That whispering in him, that ancient instinct, was pointing out how lovely it would be if he ordered them to mate in front of him, maybe compete to see which one of them would get to have his knot that night, and he really wasn't that kind of alpha, wouldn't ever act on such urges even if he were free, but the images those thoughts inspired were compelling, distracting. 

He kissed the top of Bruce's thigh and settled back, kneeling between his spread legs without pushing, without trying to hint. Waiting for the lovely omega's invitation like a gentleman, like a good whore. He did permit himself to ask quietly "Where do you keep your condoms?" because safety was always important and he absolutely wasn't about to risk knocking his owner's omega up. 

"Don't need them," Bruce said, and Steve was about to protest, because the lab results were pretty clear on exactly how absurdly fertile he was now, but before he could Bruce continued "I'm sterile, got that seen to years ago. And Tony wouldn't have you, ah, doing this, if there was any risk you could catch or carry anything. He, uh, he likes to be thorough about his presents," he finished, sounding embarrassed. Steve let his hands drift from Bruce's knees to halfway up his thighs, offering contact without pressuring for more, and Bruce let out a happy little sound at the touches. 

His right hand drifted a little higher still, carefully watching for the slightest sign of displeasure, ghosting across the top of Bruce's thigh before shifting towards Bruce's perineum, stroking gently, hesitantly. He seemed eager enough, shifting back against Steve's fingers as he kissed Tony. Steve dared to press two fingers very lightly against Bruce's entrance and smiled at the half-muffled moan that earned him. He rubbed a little more before sliding a finger in, slow and careful, and found Bruce already soaking wet and more than open enough to be taken, which was nice. Steve took pride in properly performing all his duties, even these special assignments, and it was gratifying to know he'd done solid work. He slid his finger in deeper and was rewarded with another moan from Bruce, this one higher and louder, somehow needier. "I know that sound," Tony said, leer audible in his tone. "He's ready for you. If we wait much longer, the heat'll be far enough that he won't be really present to enjoy this. Mount him." Steve shivered at the order, lifting Bruce's legs to curl around his hips before snaking his arm under Bruce's sacrum to give him a little support. He lined up and took one last deep breath, preparing for the challenge of mounting without taking, without letting his instincts spur him into being less than considerate, into focusing on his own pleasure instead of his duty to the client under him. 

He pushed in slow, half-waiting for Bruce to change his mind and order Steve to leave after all, but Bruce just whimpered high and eager and kissed Tony more as Steve entered him. Fuck, he felt good, so tight, perfect to... no. Down, goddamnit. He thrust in slow, testing the angle until there, that same whimper as when Steve teased his prostate with just a finger, now considerably louder. The heady scent of Bruce's excitement got stronger as his hands grew yet more enthusiastic on Tony's chest, hip, thigh, anywhere he could reach. Tony curled around him protectively, ignoring Steve in favor of looking down at his lover, making sure he was happy. Bruce's heat was starting to tip him from eager to frantic, the whole process sped up and intensified now that he had an alpha inside him and alpha pheromones thoroughly blanketing him. Steve kept things slow, not wanting to overwhelm him on his first time with an alpha, though the slick, tight warmth of the omega's body made it difficult. He'd never done this bare before, and it made things ever so slightly more intense, made the careful pace a tease for both of them. He kept going like that, slow and thorough, until Bruce was babbling to Tony, begging for "More, please, please Tony, make him go faster, please, I want, I think I'm, oh God Tony please," and Steve looked to his owner, not speeding up until he saw Tony's wicked grin and the tight nod of permission he sent in Steve's general direction, not looking away from Bruce's face for even that long. At the signal, Steve let go just a little, let his thrusts grow faster and bit at Bruce's shoulder, though not hard enough leave a mark. Clients generally didn't want any evidence, of course, and Steve didn't want to make them unhappy. 

Tony's right hand traced the center of Bruce's chest, down over the twitching muscles of his stomach, and grasped his cock loosely as Tony purred "You getting close, Bruce? Ready to have him knot you? Nothing feels as good as an alpha's knot, I promise, you're gonna love it. Want him to do it?" Bruce keened, high and wordless, and twitched up into Tony's hand and then back down to take Steve in a fraction deeper, hips evidently rolling without much conscious thought even as he panted and nodded a little dazedly. "Go on," Tony commanded, not turning away from Bruce for even a second, "knot up, alpha." Steve groaned, thrust once more, twice, and then made sure he was buried in deep enough before letting himself start to spill inside the omega's body even as he felt his knot swell, locking them together.

Bruce immediately started crying out, back arching as he tried to push up and only succeeded in rocking the alpha's knot inside him a little. "Oh, oh God, Tony, it, feels like, it's, fuck," he panted, still writhing helplessly on the knot pinned snug inside his body. 

"Yeah, feels like the knot's pressing right on your prostate, doesn't it? Come on, let go for me. You're gonna love coming around a knot, go on," Tony coaxed, stroking Bruce's cock steadily. Steve just barely kept his head enough to remember to rock into the omega, making his knot shift as much as it could over his sweet spot and press in a little more and oh, fuck that made it hard to think, the little omega felt so fucking good, fucking made to take Steve's knot, God. Bruce screamed at that, loud and long and unrestrained, and came, clenching down around Steve's knot. He broke into scattered whimpers as he spilled, Tony kissing him all the while. "That's it, that's nice, isn't it? It's more intense, having a real knot press into your prostate as you come. Feels nice getting filled, too, the way he must still be spurting in you." Once Bruce calmed a little, Tony continued "You mind if I borrow him for a bit?" Bruce managed to flutter a hand vaguely before letting himself go boneless once more, still clenching down irregularly. 

Tony grinned down at him, kissed him again, and crawled around until he was kneeling over Bruce's head, shoulders pressing his knees. Steve blinked at him, hips jerking in another little involuntary aftershock as he finally finished coming, and said "Sir, I don't think he's really up for, uh, to do that for you." 

Tony's lips twisted in amusement before he said "I wasn't thinking of his mouth. I want yours. You'll be stuck in him for a while yet, waiting for your knot to go down. You're going to make yourself useful in the meantime." Steve nodded quickly, stretching out over the length of Bruce's body to start licking at Tony's cock. He'd kept himself from looking before, but now he had time and focus and permission and he could appreciate it, and all the rest of Tony, as much as he liked. It was a little slimmer than he'd expected but the perfect length, enough to just enter his throat without actually choking him as Tony grabbed his hair and started thrusting in casually. "Fuck, but you've got a mouth on you, see why Bruce came so quickly last time. That's it, open your throat, mmhm, no gag reflex, eh? Wonder if that's part of original model or a side benefit of the vascular..." he rambled off into incomprehensible science chatter as he kept fucking Steve's mouth steadily and Steve just tuned it out, focused on doing a good job and directing whatever attention he could spare to enjoying the way Bruce felt around and under him. He'd had a lot of practice ignoring clients' commentary, and Tony's enthusiastic speculation, now occasionally broken by equally enthusiastic swearing and praise, was certainly a lot more pleasant to listen to than a litany on the theme of what a worthless whore Steve was and how all he was good for was sucking cock. It got tiresomely same-y after the first half-dozen or so, even if it didn't exactly bother him as such. And besides, Tony really had a very lovely voice, he observed, even if Steve wasn't following his commentary in the slightest.

After a while, Bruce was conscious enough to lean up slightly and kiss at Tony's thighs. He evidently wasn't up for anything more vigorous yet, but it seemed like that worked well enough. Tony's hands tightened slightly on the back of Steve's head, keeping him down all the way as Tony rocked forward a few times more and poured his own release down Steve's throat. Steve rolled his eyes, confident his owner wouldn't be paying him enough attention right now to notice, because eugh, he hated when they forced the deepthroating through this part, left no room for him to actually use his skills, but it was hardly uncommon. After Tony finished with him and had sprawled back over the head of the bed, Steve noticed his knot was probably down enough now and murmured to Bruce "I can pull out now, sir, if you like. It shouldn't hurt." Bruce nodded sleepily, already reaching for Tony even as Steve worked his mostly-deflated knot carefully out and shuffled to the very end of the bed. He gave himself a second to watch them, savoring the way Tony curled around Bruce, equal parts protective and possessive even though he too was mostly asleep already. 

Steve rose, entering the vast en-suite bathroom and dampening a hand towel with warm water before returning, sitting on the bed and helping Bruce lift up just enough to let Steve wipe away the slick and come smeared across his thighs and belly. Steve finished cleaning him and used a corner of the towel to get the saliva off Tony's cock in turn before rising once more, reaching for his clothing with his thoughts already on the small, empty basement quarters awaiting him. "Stay," Tony said abruptly. Steve hesitated a moment, unsure if his owner meant it -- surely not, a gorgeous, powerful man like that wouldn't let some indentured whore stay in his bed, sleep beside him and his omega. "Bruce'll probably want another in the morning, just to make sure the heat's satisfied, and besides you're very warm. Stay." Steve blinked in surprise but complied all the same, sliding into the big, mmhm, comfortable bed behind Tony -- he should really go back to thinking of him as Mr. Stark, that could be awkward otherwise -- and daring to wrap an arm around his waist. Mr. Stark snuggled back against him with a happy little sigh and Steve again looked at his choices, wondered what on earth he could have done to end up sated and drifting off in a billionaire's bed but glad of the blind chance that led him there anyway, and let himself sleep.


	2. All Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per the request of a lovely commenter (thank you!), if somewhat later than I'd intended.

 

The first thing Steve noticed upon waking was _soft_. The bed in his quarters so many floors below was a perfectly serviceable twin with standard sheets, smooth and durable and nothing special. By contrast, his sleep-fogged brain had an instant of trouble even recognizing the sheets on -- on _Mr. Stark’s_ bed, he remembered abruptly, waking rather more quickly at the thought -- barely felt like fabric at all, more like some sort of cloud brought to Earth by Stark Industries’ scientific might. The next thing he noticed was warm, smooth skin pressed all along the length of his body and he blushed as he realized that he'd all but wrapped himself around his owner in the night, and uh-oh, he'd, um, _reacted_ to the warmth and pressure and the lingering scent of heat in a pretty predictable fashion. As he shifted delicately, trying to reposition so that he wasn't pressing himself directly against his owner's very firm, very shapely ass, said owner lifted his head and opened one eye, glancing up and down the length of Steve's body in a casually judgmental fashion before commenting “Yup, still give the best presents. I’ssere coffee?”

Steve took the opportunity to extract himself from the bed, hoping Mr. Stark hadn't noticed his, er, indiscretion, and walked over to the coffee-maker he'd spotted the night before while he’d waited for his clients. After all, it was one thing to be found hard and ready to serve when he'd been ordered to anticipate a client’s needs, and entirely another to _want_ for his own sake, and he wasn't sure how Mr. Stark would react to such a thing. As he attended to the coffee, fiddling with the ridiculously over-complicated machine for a few moments before he got it going, he heard the quiet rustle of someone else's waking, followed by a soft, rough “Tony?”

“Mornin’, Bruciebear. How--” Stark broke off for a yawn that, by the sound of it, may well have been jaw-cracking, “mmmhm, how's your heat doing?” Steve heard another bout of fabric rustling before Mr. Stark continued “Well, hello there. Guess that answers that question.” Steve blushed and kept his eyes firmly fixed on the coffee-maker, starting to fill a second cup as he tried to will down his morning wood, not exactly helped by the quiet moans and soft, wet sounds coming from the bed behind him, nor the lingering smell of -- wait, that smelled like _fresh_ heat. Well, at least his frustratingly persistent erection would be useful, he supposed. He finished fixing the drinks and turned towards the bed once more, pausing as he took in the sight of two gorgeously sleep-mussed omegas kissing, touching, putting on a show for h-- damn it. Coffees. Right.

As Steve approached the bed, Stark reached a hand out without even looking, and Steve quickly put the first mug into his grip. He pulled off of the distinct hickey he'd been sucking into Bruce's neck long enough to take a gulp and made a surprised, happy noise before commenting “Perfectly-brewed coffee, prompt bedside delivery, _and_ a nice hard dick -- you're full-service, alpha. I may just have to keep you.”

Steve forced himself not to make a face at exactly how _kept_ he knew he was going to go right on being and swallowed hard against his collar before setting the other coffee down on the small table before him and murmuring “Thank you, sir.” Normally, that sort of thing didn’t phase him; he’d had clients rubbing in his indent status to get their rocks off for years, but from his actual owner, it was just a bit too on-the-nose for comfort, and he hoped he wasn’t showing it. They didn’t want a _person_ , after all, just a fantasy, and he needed to keep his calm to be able to give them that, to do his job right.

“Mmmhmph,Tony, stop it. You _know_ I don’t like it when you act like that,” the other man on the bed said, seeming to wake up more, face growing almost stormy and tone rather more gruff. “Just because he’s indentured shouldn’t mean you treat him as lesser. You’re damn well aware I don’t approve of indenturing in general and yes, you’ve explained the necessity of indentured test subjects for intellectual property protections several times, but that still doesn’t make it _right_ , especially not when you’re treating him like some, some toy, after last night. You could at least find out his name. What, uh,” he said, seeming to run out of steam abruptly, “what… _is_ your name, uh...?”

Steve flushed again, uncomfortable with being stuck firmly in what was evidently an ongoing quarrel between his owners, and as the center of attention too. He made sure he was looking down, gaze lowered and head properly bowed, when he answered “Steve, sir,” and hoped they’d just get to the part where he could do his job and leave without causing them to argue any more. He’d never had to deal with a morning-after before, and combination of an unfamiliar scenario and the uniquely high stakes inherent to serving his owner directly was keeping him off-balance, out-of-sorts.

“Come on, Bruce, sweetheart, darling, don’t be like that,” Tony cajoled. “You know we treat our indents well, weekend hours off, fraternization privileges, no-resale clause, the works, it’s all established company policy. And he was _well_ compensated for his contract, some of my own work, absolutely top-grade stuff. Don’t worry about it so much -- look at that, he’s already hard. Felt him all excited up against me when I was waking up, too. Don’t you want, uh, Steve, I guess, to show you a nice time?” he continued, voice deepening and turning intimate, suggestive. “He felt awfully good last night, didn’t he? And he liked it too, I bet -- Didn’t you like it, alpha?”

Steve murmured a subdued “Yes, sir, very much so,” and bit his lip, considering for a second. Maybe he should -- yeah, he decided, and dropped to his knees beside the bed. Mr. Stark was his owner, after all, and clearly preferred more traditional displays of indentured submissiveness. Probably doubly so, if his partner was giving him grief over it. And Steve… part of him was stuck on desperately hoping that he’d be allowed to mate with the heat-slick litt-- with Bruce again. Fuck. He knew that old chestnut about alphas not being able to control their actions around an omega in heat was an absolute lie, but it _was_ true that there were certain physiological reactions to the pheromones of an omega experiencing full estrus that any straight alpha couldn’t help but have, and Steve knew perfectly well that if he was sent away now he’d spend the rest of the day painfully half-aroused, craving the completion the omega’s scent was currently begging him to provide them both. Last night, it was Mr. Stark who had convinced his partner to indulge in what Steve had to offer, and he thought he’d done a good job of his work too, which would make a repeat all the more attractive. The selfish, calculating corner of his brain whispered that if Steve just stayed quiet and inviting right now, the odds were good that his owner would fix it so that he’d get to fuck the pretty omega again, make him make those gorgeous noises, maybe even play with _both_ of them. At that thought, Steve shook himself silently, trying to clear his head. He was there to serve, to keep his owners happy and to protect his relatively comfortable place and the ongoing maintenance and upgrades required by Bucky’s arm, _not_ to satisfy his base urges. He should be thinking about his duty, nothing more.

Bruce splayed himself across Mr. Stark’s body before reaching out to touch Steve’s collar, rubbing at the embossed Stark Industries tag again, much as he had the previous night. After a long moment of silent consideration, he asked “Would you really, Steve? Want to, if you didn’t have to?” Steve swallowed hard again, this time at the strange intimacy of the contact as much as the question, before nodding silently. Last night, Bruce had liked initiative, Steve remembered abruptly, and leaned down to gently kiss the tendon at Bruce’s inner wrist, slightly raised as he gripped the ownership tag dangling at Steve’s throat just as it had for the last four years.

“I would be honored if you’d let me attend you, sir,” he offered, recalling how much Bruce had liked it when he’d said ‘please’ the night before. Either he liked begging, or was just one of the ones that liked the thought of an eager lover. It was _exponentially_ harder to balance expectations and play into their cravings with two clients, Steve thought, especially when one wanted submissive and the other wanted assertive. Still, he was a professional, and he would put in the best work he could.

Bruce swiped his thumb across the tag one more time, seeming to come to a decision, before nodding firmly and saying “Okay, then. Come on up here, on the bed.” As Steve obeyed, he continued, asking “What do _you_ like, Steve?,” eyes searching.

Steve glanced between Bruce, his gaze intent on Steve and his face almost hopeful, and Tony, who was watching them with a rather satisfied expression that still managed to be subtly expectant, as if waiting to see whether Steve would perform correctly, whatever ‘correctly’ was for this one. “I’d like anything that would make you happy, sir,” Steve attempted, still not quite sure what they wanted but starting to feel it out, to slip properly into the mindset of serving a client. It’s just the same as all the other clients over the years, he told himself. Figure out what they want and give it to them, and you even have the benefit of them being repeats. He turned to his owner as if looking for guidance, trying a gambit as he asked “Do you know what he’d enjoy, Ma--” his owner shook his head abruptly, expression going tight, “Mr. Stark?” Steve continued smoothly, feeling like he was on surer footing. Evident eagerness for Bruce, a hint of subtle submission for Mr. Stark. Not easy, but certainly doable, and he almost grinned as he felt a plan starting to form.

Tony idly grazed a hand down Bruce’s spine where the smaller man lay stretched out across him, prompting an eager shiver as Tony’s hand cupped his ass, squeezing gently. “Mmmhm, what do you think, Bruce? We could have him lick you out while I suck your cock for you, that’d be fun.” The other man shuddered at the suggestion, attention switching back to his partner and off of Steve, which was something of a relief. He had… a greater weight of personality than his size would credit him, though Steve supposed you’d sort of _have_ to, to keep up with Mr. Stark if you were going to be at his side long-term. Steve took the opportunity to slide a hand gently over the curve of one of Bruce’s calves, teasing contact that didn’t press too hard, didn’t risk overstepping any boundaries. “Or, hmm, you’ve always liked to watch. He could fuck me. I could even get a taste of his knot, he recovers fast enough that he’d still be ready for you a couple of minutes after he pulled out.” Steve turned away slightly to hide a smile as Bruce moaned and his back arched up at the other man’s comment, hips rolling against Tony’s at the thought, and Steve bent low to start kissing up the backs of Bruce’s legs, to the other man’s evident and rather vocal enjoyment. “Maybe you’re in the mood for something a little more penetrative? You could fuck me while he’s inside you, that could be fun. You know, I really should keep him around -- once you’re off your heat and not quite so desperate to be filled, we could each take a hole, let you have his ass while I get his mouth again, he was great at that, wasn’t he?”

It was Steve’s turn to shiver, then, at the filthy suggestion. He’d been fucked before, a couple of times, but never by an omega. Omega clients were usually more or less upfront about having only bought time with him for his knot, and maybe his muscles. He’d had a few alphas spend a night with him, but they’d all been insecure middle-management types. They’d wanted to be on top and to be rough about it besides, acted like being considerate and opening him up properly would have forced them to acknowledge they weren’t bedding an omega. Ironic, given that it was the thought of making a bigger, stronger alpha their bitch the very thing that was getting them very vocally off. But an omega inside him… the possibility was humiliatingly exciting, and it seemed his owner had noticed, as he added “Ooh, look at that, Bruciebear. His pretty hard cock just twitched at that last one. Wanna get fucked, alpha?” Steve felt himself flush at being caught out, but… it was just about perfect, let Mr. Stark enforce his dominance and satisfied Bruce’s urge to attend to Steve’s preferences as well, for Steve to be eager, so he just nodded wordlessly. “Nuh-uh, come on, let’s hear it. We both know Bruce’ll enjoy that,” his owner commanded, even as Bruce twisted around to watch Steve, gaze hot and pupils dilated.

Steve pulled back from where he’d been petting at Bruce’s legs, kneeling off to the side of the pair of them as he managed “P-please fuck me, sir. I want to know what it’s like. Please.” Tony wriggled like an eel, slipping out from under Bruce even as the other omega panted a little where he lay in the middle of the bed. “I could… like last night, sir. See to your partner with my knot while you have me. If you wanted.”

“My partner, how clinical. What do you say, Bruce? Want to get that thick knot inside you again, burn off the rest of your heat while I make him moan and whimper? You know exactly how good I am at giving someone a hell of a fun ride,” Tony challenged, even as he reached open to the nearby nightstand, opening a drawer and revealing a wealth of toys, vibrators and cuffs and a -- and a rather sizable tube of lube. Steve blushed further at the sight, kind of excited even though he was a bit, not uncomfortable. Nervous, maybe. Bruce answered by rolling onto his back and leaning up, gliding a hand over Steve’s pecs, brushing at a nipple before grabbing Steve’s shoulders and tugging him down, one leg curving around Steve’s hip to pull him closer. It would be daring, but Bruce like it when he was forward, so… Steve knelt between the omega’s legs, lowered his head the last few scant inches, and kissed Bruce, softly, hesitantly, watching for the slightest sign of displeasure from either of his owners, but Bruce just moaned again and deepened the kiss, tongue flicking across Steve’s lips before sliding inside as Steve responded in kind.

“Now _that’s_ a hell of a sight to get my morning started,” Tony added after several minutes of lingering, open-mouthed kisses. Steve broke off, breathing faster than kissing strictly merited, to find the omega lounging against the headboard, sipping at his mug of coffee and lightly stroking his own cock with his free hand. Steve blushed again, damn it, he shouldn’t be such an easy touch but it was nice, getting approval from his owner, knowing that the omega desired him. He leaned down to kiss Bruce again, slower this time but with none of the hesitation, and jerked, startled, when a moment later he felt fingers graze his entrance. Tony laughed, low and rough and _dirty_ , oh, it wasn’t fair that he could make a chuckle sound like the most lewd promise imaginable, and carefully pushed a single finger into Steve’s ass, starting to slick him up. Steve spread his legs a little further, which had the side effect of nudging Bruce’s into widening his own legs where they wrapped around Steve’s hips, heels brushing at his lower back.

Steve knew it would take a while to properly open up an alpha for a fuck, though, and didn’t want Bruce to grow bored or impatient while he waited or to rush Tony along, especially since they both were used to the speed and ease of laying with another omega. Moving carefully, he slid an arm under Bruce’s back and lifted him, supporting their weight on his other arm as he moved the omega up the bed, leaving him half propped up against the headboard. “If you don’t mind, sir, while he, um, gets me ready, I could…” Steve offered, and pressed a kiss against Bruce’s hip, now in easy reach.

“F-f-fuck,” the omega stuttered out, burying a hand in Steve’s hair as if to steady himself, and Steve internally congratulated himself on excellent tactical foresight even as he felt Bruce tugging him down, his hips lifting in clear answer. Steve lowered his head once more, this time to take Bruce’s cock into his mouth. He still tasted wonderful, was still a nice length and weight in Steve’s mouth, and still gave Steve the prettiest little moans in response, his hand tightening in Steve’s hair as he started to thrust upwards, just a little, making Steve take him deeper. Unlike last night, though, Steve didn’t have Tony’s hand rushing Bruce along and instead took his time, teased with his tongue, pulled most of the way off to just barely suck at the head before taking him down again, and generally did everything he could to keep the omega entertained but not too close to release. Meanwhile, he felt his owner add a second finger to the one already moving inside Steve’s body, scissoring them and stretching him open, getting him wet and sloppy as a -- well, as an omega in heat, heh. After a moment he felt his owner’s fingers pressing deeper, angling down and then ohhh. Steve found himself moaning loud and needy around the cock in his mouth because fuck, he knew that alphas had a prostate just as much as omegas did, but he never guessed it felt like _that_ , oh God. No wonder the omegas had always been so insistent that he should be hitting theirs better, when he was clumsy first starting out with special assignments. The handful of alphas who’d had him before must have been even more clueless than he’d ever been, because Steve was confident he’d have remembered if any of them had managed to actually find it when they fucked him, though he supposed he’d not exactly been thinking about pleasure at the time so much as breathing through the pain when they got … impatient. Now, though, wow. With the teasing stimulation, Steve could barely keep his mind on the task before him, pleasuring Bruce, whose noises of enjoyment were starting to get increasingly insistent, his little jerking thrusts up into Steve’s mouth surer and deeper.

Steve pulled off for a moment, kissing at the omega’s thighs instead while he slipped one of his own fingers into the omega to tease, trying to slow him down, when Tony said “Go on, alpha, let him come. He’ll have another in him for sure. Can’t you smell it?” And, well, Steve had been trying very, very hard _not_ to smell it, with his nose buried so close to the omega’s wet little hole, but the scent of heat still itched at the animal parts of him relentlessly, no matter how good his control had become over the years. Of course he could _smell_ it, God, what was wrong with that uppity little omega b-- fuck. No, no, ignoring the heat-scent for a reason. It was working, too, just focus. Orders. He had orders. Get Bruce off. Right. He shook his head one more time trying to throw off the last of the pheromone haze threatening to drown him in his instincts and bent to his task, licking a long, slow line up Bruce’s cock before enveloping him once more, fingers sliding easily deeper as he rubbed at the omega’s sweet spot in time with every bob of his head. A few seconds later, the omega’s grip on his hair tightened down as he gasped, back arching, and then Steve was swallowing down the omega’s come, faintly grateful that he hadn’t shoved all the way into Steve’s throat for the finale, letting Steve control the end just a bit and make sure it was smooth and pleasant. He pulled off once the omega finished coming, careful not to overstimulate him, especially with as sensitive as the heat had to be making him. Shortly after, while he nuzzled gently at the omega’s belly, pressing soft kisses there and certainly _not_ actually thinking any of the thoughts about breeding that his lizard brain might be murmuring, Tony slipped another finger inside him, the three working in and out easily, slippery with the generous amount of lube Tony had used. “There, that’s about good, isn’t it?” the omega asked, drawing Steve’s attention back to him.

Steve considered it for an instant, but the omega’s cock wasn’t nearly so thick as those alphas’ had been, and three would probably be just fine. Besides, if his owner wanted to have him now, well, then, he’d just better be ready for that, one way or another. “Yes, sir,” he answered, and then flicked a glance down at Bruce, who was starting to track things again, pouring heat-scent as his cock slowly filled again, and added in another “Please fuck me, sir. I want to feel you inside of me,” and yup, Bruce definitely liked that, good to know. He felt his owner’s fingers withdraw and suggested “It might be easier if I, um, make the first move. So I don’t dislodge you when I do so, sir.”

Mr. Stark chuckled again, still filthy, and said “Always so polite. Yes, Captain Euphemism, you can go ahead and take him before I start fucking you. ‘Make the first move,’ damn.” Steve colored again at the mockery, jaw going tight, but pushed it aside and focused on lifting Bruce’s hips gently, getting them lined up properly. It was one of the more convenient benefits of the serum they’d given him, that he was strong enough to hold an omega in just about any position he could want, and it let Steve be careful, make sure there wouldn’t be any strain on the omega and that he’d just have the nice night he wanted, no discomfort the next day. He eased into Bruce’s body and oh, oh. There was always a moment, first pushing in, where all he wanted to do was pound away fast and hard and knot, right now, no delay, no consideration, just _take_ , and the perfume of heat still pouring from the omega below him only intensified the urge. He paused, trying to get control over himself again, and his owner took the opportunity to push inside Steve’s body in turn. It was -- strange, was the first thought he had. It didn’t hurt like the alphas had, which was a nice change, but it was just so odd that it completely derailed the usual fuck-knot-claim impulse pushing at his control, left him still and assessing, and then Tony _moved_. It, fuck. Well, that certainly went a ways to explaining why omegas got so excited about the prospect, he thought almost-deliriously. And then Tony was setting up a rhythm, sliding inside him slow and even, and he abruptly remembered what he was supposed to be doing and started thrusting into Bruce, and oh, oh, oh, that left him caught between the clenching, eager heat of the omega around his cock and the new, insistent pressure of a dick against his prostate and he kind of couldn’t tell what he liked better but he was pretty sure he was enjoying himself far more than an, an employee should be, right now, and those strangled, desperate noises were coming from him, weren’t they.

Bruce spoke, then, for the first time since Steve had started sucking him off, or at least the first real sentences that weren’t curses and encouragement. “He’s, ah, he’s great at that, isn’t he?” the omega offered with a knowing grin. “Knows exactly what he’s doing, mmhm, yeah, though he doesn’t play with alphas much these days, not since me. You’re something special for both of us, Steve.” That, that shouldn’t make it better, he thought, rolling his hips at what he hoped was a steady-enough pace to satisfy them. It shouldn’t. It was a job, an assignment, nothing more. Fuck. He felt Tony grabbing at his hips, hard enough to leave momentary bruises for the serum to fade, as he sped up, fucking into Steve a little rougher, but he was open and wet enough that it just felt _good_ , shoved him a shade deeper into Bruce’s body as a result and kept him clutching desperately at his fraying control.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, tight as a, fuck, virgin on prom night, goddamn. I opened you up all nice and loose and you’re already tightening up around me again, fuck but I do great work, go team Stark” Tony said behind him, and Bruce snorted loudly before moaning again, clutching at Steve’s shoulders and tightening his legs around Steve’s waist.

“He’s, uh, uh, uh, fuck, yeah, umph, he’s neither shy nor modest, but it kinda grows on you, I promise,” Bruce was saying, and Steve wasn’t sure if it was the waning heat letting him be more mentally present this time of it, or if Steve was just doing that shoddy of a job with all the distraction, but he kind of liked hearing Bruce this time. The way Bruce talked to him, like Steve was a part of his relationship with Tony now, like he belonged, it was nice. “He kinda gets off on his own ego a bit, when I let him, oh fuck yes there,” he broke off to pant, and then grinned, easily as dirty as any of Tony’s suggestive chuckles, “but _I_ get off on knowing how much you both like it. Come on, alpha, I know you’re ready for me. F-f -- fuck, fuck --  finish me off, Steve. Go on. Enjoy it.” And that was, technically that was an order, that was his owner’s permission, fuck. Steve slammed in one last time, almost but not quite unseating Tony in the process, and started to spill, locking them together. He felt Bruce begin to come around him, distantly, but his attention was rather more taken up by the sensation of, oh God, clenching down hard around the cock inside him as he came. Mr. Stark seemed to like it too, because he lost his rhythm entirely, shoving in deep with a few short, harsh little jerks and biting down hard on Steve’s shoulder as he came in turn, shooting inside him as Steve gasped for breath like he hadn’t since he was free.

After a moment Tony pulled out, cock softening, and that seemed strange but sort of convenient to Steve, who was well-accustomed to the awkwardness of waiting for a knot to go down, tied into someone who didn’t know or like him and who had no particular interest in changing that status, making incredibly uncomfortable small-talk or enduring stony silence while his cock occasionally twitched out another little spurt of come and they both avoided eye contact. The omega way sure seemed a lot nicer, he thought, though at the same time he was glad for the chance to stay here a moment more, with Bruce warm and happy beneath him, beaming up at Steve almost fondly after his orgasm. It was nice to know he’d done good work for them, and Bruce still felt lovely in his arms, even if he was slightly less thrilled about the sensation of Tony’s come slowly trickling out of his ass as it finished, sigh, tightening back up just as Mr. Stark had observed. Steve had just dared to brush a lock of curly hair out of the omega’s eyes when he felt something against his ass and oh, towel, that’s nice of him. His owner cleaned them both up before disappearing again, and after a moment Bruce finally reached for his now-tepid coffee, taking a sip before casually commenting “He does have a point. You do brew a mean cup of coffee,” and grinning up at Steve with an almost-wicked glint in his eye. Steve blushed yet again, damn his fair skin, at Bruce’s tone of sly promise, and checked on his knot. Hmm, close, but best not to rush it, Bruce could still be sore from the night before, no need to push. “What time is it?”

“Almost eight,” Tony answered, coming back into the bedroom with wet hair and his shirt on and half-buttoned, and Steve must have been allowing himself to linger with the omega far longer than he’d realized, for his owner to have already showered and gotten half-dressed. “And yes, I checked, we don’t have to meet with the Wakandan special project team until nine and they’ll be coming here anyway, so no, you don’t get to do that adorable thing where you claim you can’t get presentable in time and then hide in your lab from all the dignitaries who yes, really do want to meet you. If I have to go be socially appropriate and not just hermit myself away in my science-cave, so do you.” Bruce sighed in the resigned-yet-fond fashion that Steve was beginning to realize was his default Tony state and wriggled easily off of Steve’s knot, and damn it, he should have been paying attention and known it was time to pull out, not watching Mr. Stark’s clever fingers glide up the buttons of his finely-fitted shirt, however nice a sight that was. He covered for his lapse by taking the towel Tony had left before, still damp and warm, and cleaning them the rest of the way off now that he had rather better access to the, er, messier areas in question. Tony walked over to reclaim his half-empty mug and gave Bruce a quick peck in passing, and Bruce surprised Steve by proceeding to kiss Steve himself in turn, chastely, this time, which only made it more strange.

Steve shifted off the bed, puzzled, and reached for his clothes were he’d left them neatly folded out of the way last night. He was supposed to report to his office promptly at eight AM every weekday, though he somehow suspected he wouldn’t exactly be disciplined for being a little late this particular morning. Bruce followed him after a moment, slinking up off of the rather mussed bed with the languid satisfaction of a post-heat omega, catching Steve’s attention with the easy grace of the movement. He’d done well, then, excellent. As Steve finished dressing, Bruce ambled towards the large en-suite bathroom and paused, turning back to Steve once more. “I know we all have work for now, but…” he broke off for a moment, as if unsure, before biting at his lower lip and nodding to himself, and Steve dared to let himself hope. “I’d like it if you joined us tonight. Tony had some... interesting ideas, now that my heat’s through. Would you want that? To join us?” he asked, looking into Steve’s eyes, and there was no command there, just invitations of all sorts. Steve nodded shyly, even as he noticed Mr. Stark watching them with predatory, proprietary interest and a hungry sort of smirk.

Well, then. Only one answer he could give. “I’m all yours, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The summer's been a bit busier than I'd hoped, but there's a decent chance that there may be another fic up at the end of July (though probably not in this verse). This was actually my first chaptered fic, or at least the first that's gotten posted (the others are WIPs, which I don't post as I can't commit to any sort of schedule). Let me know if anything's gone wrong!


	3. When You Need Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony grinned at him, loose and filthy like it was just the two of them up in the penthouse, producing the usual response in Steve’s trousers, and swayed closer. “Got a problem only you can handle, alpha,” he purred, swinging a leg up and settling himself down straddling Steve’s lap. “Real *hot* project for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello unexpected third chapter. Y’all can thank a commenter on chapter 2 for giving me the idea -- they brought up the idea of what Tony might be like during his heat, which got me thinking...
> 
> Warnings: There’s a discussion of mpreg in this one (not the physical details, but a discussion around fertility issues and a later one touching on parenting), so if that’s a squick, you may want to skim that bit/skip this one. 
> 
> Also, this is a bit angstier than the prior two. It’s been a rough couple of months.

Of all the things he expected a snowy mid-December morning to contain, Steve thought to himself, this did not make the list.

Mr. Stark was unpredictable and good-naturedly demanding at the best of times, given to following his whims more often than his or anyone else’s schedule, but he’d never interfered with Steve’s daytime duties before. Well, aside from the occasional lunch-break blowjob in the executive suite’s private bathroom, but those were only after Steve had been on the corporate floor anyway to give presentations. His owner said that watching Steve blush and try to focus on the meeting’s content while Tony made bedroom eyes (and occasional obscene gestures) at him was a form of foreplay all its own.   

Periodic furtive fellatio notwithstanding, nothing about the last few months’ pattern of attending to Mr. Stark and his omega Bruce every night instead of Steve’s... more usual clientele had led him to expect the sight of his owner swaggering casually into Steve’s block of cubicles, barefoot and wearing a half-closed silk bathrobe, hair wet and scent an overpowering mix of high-end scotch and eager early heat, at 9:27 AM on a Friday.

Steve spun in his seat immediately, facing the omega as he continued his slow approach and trying not to notice the way that the cubicle occupants on every side of them for what seemed like half the length of the building were peeking over their dividers curiously. He fumbled for a smile as he said “Mr. Stark, good morning. Uh. I don’t think the marketing department was expecting you to visit us today. How can I help you, sir?”

Tony grinned at him, loose and filthy like it was just the two of them up in the penthouse, producing the usual response in Steve’s trousers, and swayed closer. “Got a problem only you can handle, alpha,” he purred, swinging a leg up and settling himself down straddling Steve’s lap. “Real _hot_ project for you.” He paused to take a swig from his bottle before leaning in, arms crossing behind Steve’s neck. His weight on Steve’s thighs was solid and familiar, and Steve’s body kept right on responding without checking in with his brain about the appropriateness of the situation. God, he’d never smelled Tony’s heat before, never properly smelled any omega’s heat but Bruce’s. He’d never once had a heated-up client, not in _full_ heat at least. Omegas were vulnerable during heat, the distraction of their bodies making it harder to concentrate. Very few omegas in their season would trust a strange alpha to see to them, even an indentured one, and certainly not when outside the safety of the omega’s own den. And Tony smelled so _good_ , smokier than Bruce’s pineapple-bright fruity heat, just as sweet but thick and musky like molasses.

A few drops from the open bottle trickled down Steve’s shoulder blade in a sudden shock of wetness. He twitched forward in surprise and ended up all but burying his face in Tony’s neck, getting a lungful of that sticky-molasses heat scent as it gradually strengthened. Steve pulled back immediately, flushing as he also noticed that Tony wasn’t wearing anything under the robe, God he smelled good and there was _nothing_ in the way, all Steve had to do was pop open his fly and fuck the little -- Well, shit. Heat scent. Right. Focus. “Um, of course I’d be happy to help you with anything you want, sir. How about we go to your office, and, uh, you can tell me what you need on the way,” he tried, words coming out lower and rougher than he’d intended. Steve tensed at how much his voice gave away, and then stiffened further when Mr. Stark responded by arching his back and grinding down, hips shifting in a pretty unmistakable rhythm that suggested he’d noticed Steve’s, er, indiscretion.

“Ohhhhh, alpha,” his owner moaned, taking another swig as he rolled his hips again and Steve started to feel dampness soaking through his trousers, oh God, “I can tell you what I need from you right here, gorgeous, I can spell it _right_ out for you. Kay,” his lips parted in over-exaggeration of the letter, making mocking eye contact with blown pupils. “En. Oh --”

Steve choked on nothing and stood abruptly, holding onto the omega so he wouldn’t fall in the seconds before his legs locked around Steve’s waist, keeping them pressed closely together and hiding what felt like an embarrassingly large wet spot over the crotch of Steve’s khakis at the expense of the whole office getting a clear view of Tony’s tanned, shapely legs. “Let’s discuss this elsewhere, sir.”  

“Oh, yeah, big boy, take me for a _ride_ ,” the omega said, too-loud and slurring a little. Steve took a second to settle Tony in his arms, shifting the weight to his right so he could free his left hand long enough to lock his computer screen. His manager was going to be annoyed enough at his late assignments, no sense in violating security protocols and earning a punishment when she’d be in a bad mood anyway. When she was crabby she used the crop. “Maybe we should stay ‘n give ‘em a show, huh? Haven’t gotten caught in public since way before I even met Bruciebear. ‘M getting old and respectable. Cubicle, actually would be a new one on my life list, got fucked in mediocrity-beige corporate Purgatory, check.”

Steve walked a little faster towards the elevators, resolutely not looking to see which co-workers he would now have to avoid eye contact with for the foreseeable future. He’d know soon enough. “I think you’d be a lot more comfortable in the penthouse, sir,” he bit out, long legs eating up the hallway despite the discomfort of walking quickly when quite _this_ excited.

He reached the elevators and pressed the “up” button hard enough that the plastic face began to crack, and then squeaked when Tony took the opportunity of his turned head to bite the side of Steve’s neck, sucking what felt like a sizable bruise into the skin just above his black leather collar before pulling off to pant “Oh, going to make me comfortable, alpha? Take good care of your pretty little omega?” His tone was clearly trying for flippant, but Tony’s voice wobbled ever so slightly at the end of his sentence in a way that didn’t seem alcohol-related. 

“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of you,” Steve murmured, nuzzling in against Tony’s neck in return. Mmmhm, he smelled good, molasses-heat and Tony and -- and just the faintest trace of something that read purely as distress, subtle enough that any unenhanced alpha would have missed it. As much as the heat scent still prodded his instincts towards mindless lust, the hint that his omega was unhappy was infinitely stronger, a calling to protect his mate that Steve could feel in his bones. He settled his grip more firmly, stepped into the elevator, tapped his badge to the security reader, and finally pressed the button for the penthouse.

As the doors closed, he heard a soft “You… Do you really think I’m still pretty?” snuffled into the curve of Steve’s neck, almost inaudible but for the alpha’s enhancements.

Steve blinked for a second, swallowing, before confirming “Yes, sir. You’re very lovely.”

“Don’t tell Bruce,” the omega said, suddenly loud and certain. “If he was home he’d say beauty was an oppressive alpharchic construct and we should value people for their minds and that mine is his favorite. He wouldn’t -- he’s good. He’s not like me. I don’t think he’s tried to make an alpha like him in his whole life, to make anyone like him. Don’t tell him about -- about any of this. Nothing happened. My heat didn’t come. He knows my cycle’s getting spotty, that it won’t be long before… Just, don’t tell him. Don’t tell him I was like this.”

“Yes, sir. I won’t,” Steve promised, his free arm wrapping around Tony’s back and nestling him a little more closely against Steve’s chest as they sped upwards. Tony snuggled in for a moment before seeming to shake himself, releasing his legs from their grip around Steve’s waist and standing, face painfully indecisive for a moment before shifting back to the lurid mask he’d worn in the office below, complete with another swig from the third-empty bottle and a newly clenched jaw.

“Well, then, let’s get going, stud. J, doubletime, places to be,” he said over the whirr of the elevator car abruptly rushing upwards.

Once they arrived, Mr. Stark sauntered through the open doors and into the living room, ambling in the general direction of the bedroom with his head high and his path none too steady. Meanwhile, Steve rushed over to where he’d stashed the little bag of aids he’d cobbled together out of some of his professional supplies, tucked into one of the mostly-decorative kitchen cabinets as a precaution. The omegas always had plenty of toys and things and he’d never needed anything out of it before, but he’d put condoms in the bag for a reason. His owner might’ve been happy rolling the dice and going bare while off-cycle, but there was no way someone as wealthy and powerful as Mr. Stark would ever risk _catching_ with some indent whore’s pups just because he was heated up and infinitely more fertile. Steve hadn’t wanted to imagine the fallout from a heat-addled Tony demanding sex and being too impatient to let Steve go get protection and there being an accident; thus, the precaution. He pulled one of the condoms from the bag, saying “Don’t worry, sir, I know you don’t normally keep prophylactics around, but I have some here,” as he turned to face his owner once more.  

Mr. Stark paused in his meander towards the bedroom and blinked hazily at the small package in Steve’s hand before wavering a few steps closer. “W-huh? Pro-- well, look who sounds like a fucking drugstore clerk. Nope, none of those,” he said with a decisive if wobbly shake of his head. “If I haven’t caught in the last twenty years, I’m pretty sure I’m not gonna catch now, and it wasn’t for lack of fuckin’ trying.” He got a little closer, into arm’s reach, and pulled the condom from Steve’s grip, holding it up consideringly before suddenly laughing, brief and barking.

“It’d be damned appropriate if I had to build myself an alpha good enough to finally get pups on me. Go for it, big boy. Who knows, maybe Stark Industries will get its heir after all. Daddy would have been oh-so-proud of me continuing the family line, once he finished drinking enough to wash away the reminder that his only son’s a breeding _bitch_ ,” he said, abruptly turning to throw the rubber at the far wall of the penthouse, unsteady but no less vehement for it. The open bottle in his other hand sloshed a bit onto the floor, a sudden nutmeg-and-pear note joining the perfume of heat already filling the room.   

“But who gives a fuck what he’d think, anyway, right?” he asked, face breaking into a sickly forced-looking grin. “Bastard’s been rotting for, as of now, twenty-four years, eleven months, twenty-nine days, fourteen hours, and --” he paused for a second “--forty-eight minutes? Right, J? For, forty-”

The mysterious ceiling fellow the omegas talked to sometimes replied with a disapproving “Fifteen hours, seven minutes, sir. I believe you fell asleep briefly without realizing it during your bath earlier. You had at that point been awake for forty-nine hours and already had several ounces of the Glenmorangie Pride. May I suggest you consider retiring for the day?”

“ ‘f I sleep I’ll just wake up soaking through the bed and half wild, J. Fucking cycle had to come through right fucking now, couldn’t’ve given me two damn days to get blackout drunk in my damn workshop while Bruce was in Brussels and too busy to _support_ at me or tell me to focus on my chi or take away my scotch or something equally annoying. Couldn’t _wait_ and let me share it with him. Fucking _fine_ , body, have it your way.” Mr. Stark turned and sort of _listed_ towards the bedroom, saying “Carry me to bed, alpha. You’ve got work to do” before taking another hit from the now half-empty bottle.

Steve swallowed hard, nodding and scooping his owner up easily, once more cradling the omega against his chest even as he bit his lip, glancing over his shoulder at the discarded condom. No, he couldn’t disobey a direct order like that, no matter how permissive Mr. Stark had been these last few months. If Steve’s owner had decided to risk it, then they would be risking it. Steve thought he wouldn’t mind being a dad, really, assuming Mr. Stark decided to acknowledge his pup’s parentage or allow Steve to see them. And anyway, Mr. Stark said he hadn’t had any luck before, so there probably wouldn’t be any children. There was no point in imagining sweet little pups with wavy black hair and bright blue eyes climbing all over him or begging Bruce for storytime or asking Tony to explain clouds. It was just his stupid alpha instincts that thrummed with the urge to mate, to fill his omega up with their pups, to start a family -- it didn’t mean anything. Steve forced himself to turn his back to the little packet and walked to the penthouse’s vast bedroom, pressing a kiss to Tony’s hair as he went.   

“Would you like another bath, sir?” Steve asked once they were within the massive suite. “You seem, um, a little tense.”

“Think I’m all bathed out, thanks,” he mumbled in reply, fiddling clumsily with the knot on his robe’s belt, which was also silk and had apparently seized. “Got all squeaky clean so you could get me _dirty_ , alpha. Isn’t that, um, that…” he trailed off, trying to focus on the belt properly. After a few seconds he abandoned the effort to bury his nose in the side of Steve’s neck and abruptly proclaim “You smell nice, alpha. Did you always smell this good? I don’t remember you smelling this good before. I mean, good, sure, of course, but not this, this is, like, it’s like, _fuck_ , ‘m heated up. It’s like a thing that would make me money. Fuck.” He pulled back far enough to make eye contact, turning faintly pink as he seemed to properly focus for the first time that morning. “Shit, either I forgot how alphas get me when it’s my time or it’s coming faster than it used to. Maybe the scotch wasn’t such a good idea. Get me to bed, I’m not going to be doing much thinking in a couple more minute.”

Steve suppressed the urge to ask what parts the other man _had_ been thinking for thus far and finally reached the master suite’s oversized bed, gently depositing his owner in the middle of it. The omega squirmed a little against the sheets, fumbling with the belt once more, and Steve covered his hands gently, pausing their efforts. He leaned down and gave Tony a slow, proper kiss, their first of the morning. He wouldn’t risk it with a regular client, but both his owners seemed to like kissing him and being kissed in return much more than any other clients, and Steve found he rather enjoyed it too. Their responses were beautiful, and they seemed to get excited watching one another kissing him, too, which was convenient for keeping both of them happy. Tony arched up into the kiss, hands sliding into Steve’s hair and tugging, keeping him in easy reach as the kiss deepened. As it continued, Steve tried to plan out the best way to approach this. Tony was clearly pretty far into his heat, and would probably start getting uncomfortably frantic soon without something to relieve a little of the pressure. But he liked submission, not the overly-forward behavior that worked for Bruce, so Steve couldn’t just decide on something and start. He needed it to be Mr. Stark’s idea, get him to pick something so Steve could do his job properly. Right, then.  

He withdrew from the kiss gradually and pulled back gently before sliding to his knees on the floor just in front of the bed, directly between the omega’s spread legs. He looked up just long enough to see the omega prop himself up on the arm not currently occupied with whiskey to watch and then dropped his eyes, just barely resisting the urge to try peeking under the robe at his new, more convenient angle. Slow breath out, then roll the dice. “How may I serve you, Master?” 

There was an awkward pause during which Steve had to focus hard to not look up and check his owner’s mood, but no. If he’d done something wrong, a punishment would tell him that, and if he’d done something right, the omega would give him his orders and he could complete his duty. “How… old-fashioned,” Mr. Stark said after a moment, and okay, that was a promising sign, he sounded turned on and not mad. Fingers laced through Steve’s hair and he darted a glance up, finding his owner curling up off the bed towards him, setting the bottle aside at last to focus instead on Steve’s offer. “I _am_ an egotist, alpha, but not quite that much. You don’t have to do that fake fawning stuff just ‘cause I like seeing you on your knees. Mmmhm, but you do look good on your knees for me,” he added, and stroked Steve’s cheek clumsily when he flushed in response. “Such a pretty mouth. Going to put that mouth to work for me? Take a little pressure off me first, before we really get going?”

At that, Steve dared to shift into a high kneel, stretching up into another kiss even as he reached for the robe’s sash, finding the silk knot had slipped far too tight to easily untie. Destruction of property was a serious offense, but… he decided to take the chance and gripped the belt on either side, tugging once, hard, before he felt it snap and the lovely silk robe fell open entirely. He heard the omega moan at that, and decided to take another chance, gripping Tony’s hips and pulling him down the length of the bed, making his legs spread around Steve’s shoulders and leaving his rear just hanging over the bed’s edge. “I’m gonna take that as a yes,” he heard Tony say somewhat dreamily. Steve glanced up again just to doublecheck that he hadn’t crossed any lines, but his owner looked pleased and excited, maybe even a little curious. With that settled, Steve guided the omega’s legs over his shoulders, leaning to press a kiss against one leg before nuzzling in close and licking at the smear of slick across the back of Tony’s thighs. He started at the furthest edge of the glistening shine and worked his way closer and closer to its source, cleaning Tony up while giving him plenty of time to order Steve to do something else if he didn’t like the idea.

 When the only response was the return of Tony’s hands to their grip on Steve’s hair accompanied by some more moaning, he took the chance of pressing Tony’s legs wider apart so he could lap at the source of the, mmmhm, delicious mess. Tony’s grip tightened, holding him in place, and Steve smiled before focusing properly on his task. Tony was loose under him, pliant already with heat and so wet, leaking a little more with every swipe of Steve’s tongue. Fuck, yeah, gonna get him wet and then mount the -- damnit. The omega’s earlier distress had focused his instincts on caretaking, but now, tasting him like this, it made the primal parts of Steve’s brain that were only interested in mating wake up and start making demands. He tasted wonderful, sweet and musky like his scent, and had started lifting his hips rhythmically in the last few minutes, pressing back against Steve’s tongue as he tried to get closer, to chase his pleasure. Steve put a quelling hand against Tony’s hip, which only made him buck up harder, apparently reveling in the restriction as he didn’t order it removed. Satisfied that his owner really was content to let Steve run at least this portion of the mating as he saw fit, he slid the tips of the first two fingers of his free hand against Tony’s puckered entrance, testing. The heat was pretty far along, but it had been a while since his owner had wanted to use Steve’s cock, so better to doublecheck he was properly relaxed. He pressed his fingers in slightly and Tony’s body yielded, beautifully eager, and Steve found himself smiling in satisfaction even as he licked the delicate flesh stretched around his fingers. Despite the flash of distress earlier, he was doing it _right_ , he was pleasing his omega and they’d make a lovely den together and have lots and lots of healthy -- . He was doing his _duty_ and protecting Bucky and his arm, that was all, damnit, _focus_. He sucked a little at the sensitive skin under his tongue and Tony all but growled, movements growing more insistent. “Fuck, yeah, you like that? Want it, want me, gonna make me happy? Ummhh, you’re _mine_ , and you want to make me _happy_ , don’t you?” Tony all but snarled, hands clenching hard in Steve’s hair.

“ _Yes_ , sir,” Steve panted against Tony’s rear, licking faster as he twitched his fingers, looking -- _found_ it, if the way Tony gasped and jackknifed off the bed was any indication.

“Then fucking shut up and _get me off already_ ,” he demanded, and Steve hurried to obey, shifting his hand off of Tony’s hip to jack him off in time with the twist of his tongue and other fingers. He knew some omegas got short-tempered during heat, and although he’d never really figured on Tony being one of them, he _was_ mercurial, unpredictable. He moved slightly faster, fingers working in rapid rhythm, and with a choked-off gasp he heard Tony come, splashing his left hand even his right was coated in a sudden gush of slick, adding to the mess already smeared across his face.   

Tony collapsed back, eyes closed and abruptly looking beatifically relaxed, and Steve dared to take a moment to just look at him, both reveling in the satisfaction of a job very clearly well done and indulging in the omega’s beauty. He was so gorgeous like this, all the normally too-tense lines of his body slack with bliss, the almost-frenetic energy that seemed to drive him for once quiet. Tony blinked open after a moment, catching Steve’s regard, but only gave him a lazy, filthy smile before saying “Mmhm, looks like I got you all wet, alpha. Seems only fair, you got _me_ all wet,” he offered, sly and warm. “Well, nature and you, I suppose.” The contrast between this pleased, happy Tony and his earlier irritation was gratifying in a way that probably wasn’t appropriate for an indent to feel, but Steve couldn’t help but think that _he_ did that, he fixed that, Tony was happy now because he took care of him right. It wouldn’t last, biology being what it was, but for now at least Steve had done his job right and his omega was happy with him.

After a moment, Tony pushed himself up, leaving his robe a crumpled mess under him, discarded as he wriggled back up the bed partways. “Lotta clothes you’re still wearing there, alpha. You’re going to need to do something about that. C’mon, just imagine how much more fun we’ll have if I sit on your lap _without_ those truly ghastly bargain-basement khakis in the way. Which, I’m going to have to talk to Requisitions, you should at least be wearing something free from the scourge of polyester and perhaps even, oh my, properly _tailored_ , how outrageous that would be. Usually when you’re up there being all Marketing Ken I’m too busy imagining you kneeling for me during a board meeting to notice the absolute travesty that is the wardrobe they assigned you -- is that shirt even broadcloth? Because that weave did not feel like broadcloth, it felt like cheap gingham and wow, actually I think the designers deserve some kind of tensile strength award, how has it not popped yet with your shoulders?”

Steve ducked his head to hide the smile as he started working on the topmost button of his shirt. It was good to see that Tony was sufficiently relaxed and content to slip into his usual rambling observations, over-enunciating enough that he was probably still quite drunk but apparently free of the desperate unhappiness or forceful seduction of before. He felt a foot prod his shoulder and his head shot up immediately, hands stilling. “What, that’s the best you have to offer? Aren’t you going to give me a show, alpha?”

Steve bit his lip for a second but stood, feeling awkward. He’d been ordered to show off that way only a handful of times, and he wasn’t really any good at it. He knew he was handsome, now, that omegas liked his muscles, liked looking at him, but he couldn’t seem to translate that into how to take his clothes off any particular way. Instead, he mostly undressed as he normally would, just slower. First was his shirt, fingers working over the buttons before he pulled it from its neat tuck into his waistband and shrugged it off, folding it before dropping it to the floor and hoping it wouldn’t get too wrinkled. “Boo, minus five points for domesticity, c’mon, where’s your _stage presence_?” Tony heckled, but Steve could also see that he had taken himself in hand and was stroking his already half-hard cock slowly, casually.   

He made himself take a deep breath, knowing it would stretch his white A-frame undershirt pleasingly even as it calmed him down. Then he looked up, making potentially disastrous eye contact with his owner as he rubbed his palm against the obvious bulge in his slick-stained pants, panting audibly at the contact. Tony’s eyes darkened visibly, hand speeding slightly, and Steve allowed himself a wicked smile as he repeated the movement, slow and exaggerated this time, never breaking their gaze. “Oh, I _did_ get you wet,” Tony cooed almost to himself. “How very terrible it would be if those pants were permanently stained and had to be _burned_ as they deserve. So tragic.”

He took a second to rub at the pants’ button before turning to the side and bending low. It was a boringly practical move, getting his shoes and socks off, but he made sure to arch his back and press the swell of his ass tight against the fabric of his trousers, giving his owner something to look at so he wouldn’t get too bored. The broken eye contact also gave him a lucky moment to calm his stupid dick down a bit. He wasn’t even in the omega yet, damn it. Getting eager enough to pant and play with himself could be disastrous if he didn’t step it back, push his need sufficiently far away that he wouldn’t knot within the first two thrusts.

Finally barefoot, he turned back to face the bed as he rose, finding Tony still watching avidly, hand working a little faster now and eyes just starting to glaze with heat’s urgency. Steve felt his shoulders start to curl shyly inward at the intensity of his omega’s regard and forced himself to still, to broaden back out and give himself that classic alpha silhouette they all seemed to love. He locked eyes again with Tony and started tugging his undershirt up, slow and uneven so it revealed little bits and pieces of skin as he went, unpredictable and therefore much more interesting. He finally pulled it off and simply dropped it, not worrying much about wrinkles in such a soft garment, and one that would be hidden anyway. He looked down at his trousers as he caressed the button again. They were pretty badly stained -- he’d have to change for the day, at least, if his owner sent him back to work before tonight, and they might not be salvageable. Well, they had to come off for now, anyway, so no point in wondering, and they were bad off enough he could drop them to the floor without the caution that would make his owner mock him again.

“You’re so _quiet_ , alpha,” Tony observed suddenly, sounding a bit closer to the tone of louche invitation he’d used earlier in the morning, loose and lusty and more than a bit drunk. “Why are you so quiet? I know you can talk. You talk for hours to that brunet I built an arm for, I’ve seen it.”

Steve’s hands paused on the fly of his pants, button popped but zipper still closed. “You… watch the surveillance footage from when Bucky visits me.”

“I wanted to know if you were fucking him,” Mr. Stark replied, tone shameless and unconcerned. “I don’t like other people touching my things.”

Steve swallowed at that. The insult burned at him, but it was absolutely his owner’s right to observe him whenever he felt like it, restrict Steve’s behavior however he saw fit. He should be grateful that he was still allowed to see Bucky at all, to leave the Tower sometimes, to give assignments to free coworkers like an equal. He should be. It was just a little hard to remember that sometimes. “I’m not having sex with Bucky, sir. I’m not having sex with anyone but you and your partner. I -- is there something you _want_ me to be saying, sir?” he asked, pushing down the zipper and starting to shove off his trousers.

His owner actually looked a little uncomfortable as he replied “Well, all of the other alphas I’ve been with, by now they’d have been telling me how much they were looking forward to fucking me, feeling how wet and needy my cunt was, seeing how hot I looked clenching around their knots, you know, the normal stuff. From you, nothing. You... you _do_ want to fuck me, don’t you?”

Steve felt his cock twitch back to full arousal, the memory of exactly how good his omega felt bolstered by the scent of heat slowly filling the room once more as Tony’s next wave started to properly build. “Yes sir” he found himself growling, abruptly refocusing. Okay, he wanted a more verbal performance. Steve could do that. He poked his tongue out of one side of his mouth, showily licking up a bit of the slick still smeared across his chin. “You wanna hear about it? You were there when Bruce had his heat, you remember how happy he was after I took care of him. I’ll do right by you, sir. I know how to make omegas feel _good_.” He stepped out of his pants, crumpled on the floor and forgotten, and stroked his own cock a few more times through his underwear, teasing a bit with it. “I got excited as soon as I could smell you. You smell incredible all heated up, and taste just as good. If you want, after my knot comes down I could lick you clean again, lick up the mess I’m going to make in you.”   

Tony let out a high, wordless whimper, squirming on the bed again, which seemed to be about all the approval he was going to give for this tactic, but it was enough. “You want me to take these off?” he prompted, hooking a thumb in the waistband of his underwear and tugging a little. “Wanna see exactly how much I want you?”

He wasn’t expecting Tony to surge up off the bed, grabbing at Steve’s briefs and yanking downwards as he panted out “Fuck, yes, _want_ me alpha, come on, show me you want me, make me feel it.” Finally, a direct order at last, and one he could easily fulfill. Steve shed his underwear quickly, stepping out of them to crawl up onto the bed, knees coming to rest bracketing one of the omega’s spread legs. 

He ground down against Tony’s thigh for a moment before asking “That it? You want an alpha to climb on top of you and pin you like the old days? Rut up against you and hold you down?” Without intending to, he caught Tony’s wrists and pressed them to the bed over his head, keeping him still easily for just a second before Steve realized what he’d done.

Before he could spring back and beg for forgiveness for the presumption, though, Tony cried out in ecstasy, arching up against Steve’s body and just barely tugging against the grip around his wrists, testing without any intent to break free. It -- apparently his owner _did_ want that. That was a dangerous kind of service for an indent to perform, but… despite the situation, Steve _did_ want to take care of his omega, wanted give him pleasure independent of the expectations of their roles. And, well, his instincts had been _screaming_ to pin and mount since his first taste of Tony’s slick. It wouldn’t exactly be a hardship to give in to them a bit. 

He rolled his hips again, getting a little more contact as he heard himself let out an eager growl. When the omega just panted and writhed at that, he bent down to bite at the omega’s neck, careful not deep enough to mark very much, but with pressure sufficient to be sure he felt it. The smell of heat in the room was getting even stronger with every moment, making them both more frantic with each molasses-tinged breath. He let his hand drift slowly up the inside of one of Tony’s splayed thighs, cautious, before just brushing between his legs in silent question.

“Mmph, no,” Tony said, and Steve jerked his hand back and released the omega’s wrists, but his owner only continued “ ’m not Bruce, I don’t wanna on my back. I know exactly how good it feels to have an alpha wrapped around me when we’re tied. Help me, help me up, all fours. God, bet you’re strong enough to just hold me there, yeah?” he panted. Steve noticed he wasn’t slurring as much, though the heat-glazed look in his eyes was only getting stronger.

“I -- probably, sir. But it would reduce my range of … movement, for the rest, if I were to hold you up completely,” he answered, shifting to kneel beside his owner. The omega rolled onto his side and then seemed to get a bit stuck until Steve slid a hand under his other hip, tugging him onto his front. Once flipped, he started wriggling, trying to shift into presentation position without, it seemed, completely remembering how to move under the daze of heat, and mostly managing to wave his slick-smeared ass right in Steve’s face, practically begging for it just like the dirty little slu-- No. Letting those instincts come to the surface had been a risk, but Steve could manage it, could hold on and satisfy his owner regardless of how much he just wanted to snap and use a willing, eager omega for his own pleasure for the first time in his life.

After a few seconds of the wriggling, Steve reached out and gripped the omega’s hips to lift them. God, he felt so good under Steve’s hands, and his grasp tightened for a moment, squeezing just a little too tight before realizing what he had done and releasing his hold. There were ten perfect bruises already coloring where he’d grabbed Tony to pull him into the position he’d requested. Steve immediately shifted, moving his left arm into place to support the omega across the whole breadth of his body, disbursing the pressure but still keeping him in place well enough. Tony squirmed unhappily, though, and said “Mmmhm, nuh, g’back. Fell’ good. Want you t’mark me up.”

With a wince, Steve obeyed, holding Tony’s hips gently for a moment before the overeager omega shoved back into him, wobbly but vehement. He took the implicit command for what it was and pulled Tony nearer to him, pressing close against the omega’s ass as he keened eagerly, far enough into his heat that he didn’t have many words left. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll take good care of you,” he murmured softly as he stretched across the omega’s back, nuzzling into his neck to bite again and rather harder this time, sucking so he’d raise a nice dark bruise just like his owner wanted. Tony went loose and pliant under the attention, legs shaking even with one of Steve’s hands wrapped around the spur of his hipbone to support him, and that was it, then. If they waited any longer Tony wouldn’t really be able to enjoy it, healthy need turning to miserable desperation. He pulled off of the hickey he’d formed on Tony’s neck and planted a kiss at the top of his spine before leaning back a bit. He took his cock in hand, and even that much stimulation was intense after so long permeated with his omega’s need. He took one more deep breath and lined up, the head of his cock sliding easily just inside the slack rim of Tony’s entrance. He tried to push in slowly but the omega was so open and wet and yielding, eager to be filled, and with one unconsidered twitch of his hips he was seated to the root, Tony squeezing down on him in weak, intermittent flutters that felt wonderful. 

He pushed the sensations away and set up a steady rhythm, focusing instead on Tony’s reactions. He was crying out louder than usual, wordless and clearly blissful, and what little coherent movement he seemed capable of appeared to be directed towards staying up in the classic presentation position he’d asked for, angled just right for every thrust. After just a few moments of steady, careful thrusting Tony’s back arched, and he managed to moan “Nnn -- kno’ me, ‘c, ‘c’m, uhhhhhhhh, in, in me. Fill me, Steve, pl’se, wanna, want pups, you, puh -- kno’, kno’me. Tie us.” Steve was quietly amazed that any omega so far gone had managed to communicate that clearly, and he was also only too happy obey, hands tightening down on Tony’s hips once more as he thrust in deep and finally, finally let go, let his knot expand and tie them together in ecstasy.

His vision faded out for one heartbeat, two, and then he came back to himself, still coming, though already into the later fits and spurts his cock would give for five or ten minutes more. The pressure of Tony’s body around him changed, first tightening down dramatically in orgasm and then going loose, the pressure points changing as Tony’s legs apparently gave out and he was held up only where his and Steve’s bodies joined. That couldn’t be comfortable at all, and so Steve shifted his handholds slightly before trying a move most alphas wouldn’t risk, turning them onto their sides together. It was tricky, but with his enhancements even Tony’s essentially dead weight was manageable, and he got them both down safely. Once they were curled together, Steve stretched to press a kiss against Tony’s neck, over the spot he’d marked previously. Tony shivered and pressed back against Steve’s chest, and Steve reached down for a blanket to cover both of them before wrapping his arms around Tony’s waist, trying to reassure him with touch while he was too far gone to understand much else.

He could tell when the tail end of the wave passed and Tony was focusing again. He abruptly went tense all over in Steve’s arms and then flushed before cautiously relaxing again, still pressed tight to Steve’s chest. The addition of alpha pheromones, and an alpha’s knot, would speed his heat away now. He’d probably want another round in a few hours, but the first desperate rush was finished, and he’d be much more present for the rest, capable of giving Steve detailed instructions to please him more, which would be so much simpler than the guesswork he’d largely been operating on thus far. He heard a quiet sniff, and abruptly realized he’d been softly stroking Tony’s belly with one hand when the omega asked “D’you really think it could happen? Would you even want pups, with me?”, faint and sad.

Steve found himself gathering the omega in a little bit closer, even though they were still tied together quite securely. “I don’t know if it can or not, but… I hope so, sir.”

“ ‘m a shitty omega. I don’t ever do any of the, the stuff right, I’m a drunk and an ironmonger and I don’t even know how to change a baby, much less raise one. I’d probably be a shitty dam too, anyway, so maybe it’s -- better,” he offered quietly, face pressed into the pillow, muffling his last word somewhat.

Steve wasn’t sure if -- was it his place to contradict his owner? He could admit he had trouble picturing Mr. Stark as the nurturing type, but he was always so loving with Bruce and was even kind to their pet indent, so maybe he’d grow into it. And at any rate it made Steve’s heart ache to hear the omega he’d just mated with so distressed, shoved at his instincts to protect and soothe. Without entirely deciding to do so, he found himself saying “I’m sure you’d do fine. You’re both so smart with all that science stuff, I bet you can figure out pups well enough. And I could, um. Be around. If you wanted that.”

Tony made a still-muffled rude noise before tilting his head back enough to say “Dad was fucking brilliant, ask anyone. Didn’t exactly make him parent of the year. But I bet you’d be good at it.” Steve had absolutely no idea what to say to that, and so he just focused on nuzzling against Tony’s neck, holding him close in what was hopefully a reassuring fashion. 

After a few more minutes of awkward silence, Steve pulled back, his knot deflated enough to slide out. His owner made an unhappy noise when he shifted off the bed, but settled when he returned with a warm, damp cloth to clean them both up. Steve took his time, wiping away the smears of slick and semen, all the evidence of frantic early heat. Once he was finished, he hesitated for a moment -- should he go back to work downstairs? It would be several hours before Tony wanted his service again, most likely, and he could move at least one project forward -- but then Tony reached back to grab at his wrist, tugging him back towards the center of the bed. “Mmhm, stay? Please?” he murmured, evidently dozing in a wash of satisfaction and no doubt the remains of the earlier scotch. “Warm. Feels good. Like a regular ‘mega,” he added in a blurry mumble, clearly drifting off.

Steve settled back into the bed, wrapping his body around the omega once more as ordered. “Yes, sir,” he said quietly. “I’ll be here when you need me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I used a time-and-date calculator to figure out exactly how long it had been since Howard died, assuming the date was 16th December, 2016.
> 
> As seems to be usual on these, I don't have another installment planned presently, but since commenters have inspired the last two chapters, who know what might happen with the right comment?


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